


Weaving webs in my sleep

by Oversoul159



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Come Inflation, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Impregnation, M/M, Pregnancy Kink, Sleepwalking, Somnophilia, mention of abortion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 14:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oversoul159/pseuds/Oversoul159
Summary: Peter accidentally knocks up each of the Avengers. Accidentally because apparently those weird wet dreams he'd been having...weren't dreams. Oops?





	Weaving webs in my sleep

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a lighter version of an idea that popped up for me while chatting on kik with feeder ism. Enjoy!

Peter kind of wanted it to be known, perhaps on some sort of record, that he was only  _ at best _ twenty-five percent at fault for everything that happened.

 

He might even be willing to push that up to an even thirty.

 

Because really, it’s not as if this whole thing could have been avoided.

 

Probably.

 

Right?

 

\----xxxx----

 

The first time Peter got to stay at the Avengers Tower overnight was in the middle of summer during a month long “science camp” with Stark Industries. Peter’s provisional junior membership with the Avengers was still pretty new and fragile and his time with them would be filled with training, instruction and just getting to know the team. 

 

That very first day found Peter in the gym with Steve and Natasha, spending half the time winning by a good margin and the other half of the time feeling like a volleyball the way he was tossed from one hit to another.

 

After that there was dinner ordered in and a movie on Tony’s wall sized television before he was ushered off to bed like an overgrown toddler. All in all, it was a good day, made even better by just how great the entire building smelled.

 

It was… Peter couldn’t even place it. It was a like a swirl of a dozen different smells ranging from candy sweet to kiwi tangy that managed to be subtle but still somehow deliciously aromatic. 

 

\----xxxx----

 

For Peter, the first two days had him waking up feeling deeply rested and loose limbed despite not dreaming one bit. It was weird, but when the alternative was usually nightmares, he figured he’d call it a win.

 

It was the third day when things got  _ weird _ .

 

Peter started having just...weirdly specific wet dreams.

 

Each night he’d dream of burying his cock, much larger and thicker than it was normally, deep inside a different sleeping Avenger. He’d sneak into their room and breath a thick pink gas into their mouths to keep them unconscious. Then he’d take his time working them open, a thick coating of his copiously leaking precum making the job easier. And finally, once they were nice and stretched out, Peter would find himself sinking into their tight holes and then…

 

Peter would just  _ use _ them. 

 

He’d take them face down and ass up on the bed or propped up against the walls, bent over furniture or even just on the floor, their bodies half shoved under the bed from how hard he was slamming into them. And each time he’d knot and cum inside them over and over again, dumping gallons into their once thin frames by the time he was through. 

 

Then he’d just stare at them for a couple minutes, watching as most of those heavy loads somehow seemed to be absorbed into them, not a single drop spilled. Once that was over and his knot had gone down, his victim would be picked up and placed back into their bed. Peter would lean down and lick them all over, marking them with his scent and healing their wounds, licking wrecked assholes to bring them back to virgin tightness. 

 

Sometimes the dream ended there. Other times...well, they were virgin tight again and presenting so prettily…

 

Peter woke each morning with a raging hard on and feeling guilty as hell.

 

But hey, he was a teenager and had teenage hormones and all that. After spending hours upon hours wrestling some of the sexiest people on the planet, he should probably just be grateful that he didn’t get random “light brushing of cloth by a breeze” erections anymore.

 

\--xx--

 

For the most part, the next two weeks went by peacefully, aside from a weird stomach flu that hit everyone but him. Peter spent a good portion of that week providing support for people that were either steadfastly in denial of their sickness or had so long forgotten what being sick was like that they were mildly alarmed by it.

 

Somewhat used to sneaking about, Peter reacted in the cleanest ways possible. For some, he reacted by leaving bowls of fruit within hand reach of anyone that was likely to try to ignore their sickness but could be counted on to snack absentmindedly (Tony and, on a bad day, Natasha). For others, he'd have snacks and pain medication and easy to eat meals set out in random places, enticing anyone nearby to partake without having to go to too much effort.

 

\----xxxx----

 

It was about six weeks into his three month visit when Thor returned to Earth, sweeping into the room in the middle of a movie marathon during a surprisingly slow day. 

 

(Clint had somehow gone his entire life without even knowing what Star Wars was about. Even Steve had side-eyed that admission.)

 

Thor had blinked at his team in confusion, gave Peter a long considering look, and then shrugged, going off to unearth his stash of marshmallow fluff to melt into his own bowl of unbuttered popcorn.

 

Peter would later blame his lack of follow up on that look on being obscenely distracted (and, eventually, enamored) by the sheer weirdness of that meal.

 

Because, seriously. Who thinks to do  _ that? _

 

\----xxxx----

 

As he passed Thor on the couch, Steve swiped the glass of mead in his hand. Before he could even get it close enough to his mouth to take a sip, the glass was swiped back somehow  _ more _ easily, as if summoned away like Mjolnir. He glanced back at Thor, who was sipping his drink daintily with a smirk, a teensy bit afronted but mostly  _ up for the challenge. _

 

With a grin, Steve wandered away, only to cut across a couple of rooms to sneak back in and up behind Thor. Crouched behind the couch like a cat, Steve waited until Thor had started to laugh at something Clint said before sweeping in to get his prize.

 

A prize that just  _ would not _ budge. 

 

Steve planted his heels and pulled, now making full eye contact with the god of thunder. Very slowly, the manic amusement in Thor’s eyes faded to confusion and then concern, making Steve pause. It wasn’t as if this was a thing they hadn’t done before.

 

“Everything okay?” he asked.

 

Thor watched him curiously, a slight tilt to his head. “Surely you don’t intend to drink this?”

 

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thor. Thor, you’ve  _ seen _ me drink before. I can hold my mead,” he said dryly.

 

That earned him an small frown. “Are you not concerned for the health of you and yours?”

 

Steve squinted at the man, taking a moment to parse through that. He suddenly felt like he’d missed part of the conversation. “Should I be?”

 

Thor just stared at him for a long moment before realization flashed across his face. He set his glass down and stood up, rounding the couch slowly like he was approaching a wary animal. He grasped Steve by his biceps and carefully looked him up and down. After that, he turned his head and glanced at each Avenger in turn before his eyes landed on Peter.

 

And something about the look in his eyes - assessing, penetrating, not quite alarmed but intent enough to be something quite near it - had Peter’s spider senses sending a soft buzz all along his spine. As if to say, “Hey, you’re not in danger but...yeah, this is probably gonna suck.” And, as if reading his mind, Thor’s expression morphed to match that feeling before smiling wryly, almost commiserating. 

 

He finally turned back to Steve, who had been growing increasingly alarmed as the silence stretched out. “Were you not aware that you were with child?” he asked.

 

Steve blinked. It took him a moment for his brain to reload after the Blue Screen of Death that had popped up behind his eyes and when it did, he blinked again. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked flatly.

 

“You’re pregnant, my friend.”

 

“When did Steve get  _ pregnant? _ He’s not exactly  _ social _ ,” Clint said, eyes focused on Steve’s stomach with bafflement. 

 

“I imagine with was around the same time that the rest of you were impregnated as well,” Thor replied, calm as you please.

 

**_“WHAT?!”_ **

 

\----xxxx----

 

In the space of four hours, Peter learned a lot of new things:

 

One - despite having been born a beta and thus having no real scent to speak of, that spider bite had apparently changed his dynamic to that of an alpha.

 

Two - those were very much  _ not _ dreams. Apparently he’d gone into some form of pseudo-rut wherein his spider instincts had taken over, because fifteen years old was practically middle age for a spider, didn’t you know?

 

Three - the differences between dynamics was actually much more fluid than was generally taught in schools, even at the college level. Rather than the hard-lined “these people can carry children (fertile)” and “those people can supply the seed for them (virile)” binary, it was more of a spectrum. Alphas were generally very virile and pretty close to infertile. Omegas were generally very fertile and pretty close to sterile, sperm-wise. Betas fell somewhere in the middle, capable of giving or carrying children, though usually only one to three at a time. Which meant…

 

Four - while incredibly unlikely, it was technically possible for an omega to impregnate someone and for an alpha to be impregnated.

 

Five - a lack of scent in an alpha or omega usually implied a deficiency in estrogen or testosterone and thus a lack of pheromones in general. Such a person is usually sterile, similar to a person whose scent slowly disappears or lessens after the removal of their ovaries/uterus or testicles. But…

 

Six - Peter was very, super,  _ alarmingly  _ not sterile.

 

Seven - Attempting to  _ not _ bear the children could not be a thing.

 

Bruce was the one to figure that out. See, Bruce very much did not want to have biological children. Apparently, there were seventeen  _ distinct _ reasons for that, starting with  _ him being the goddamn Hulk _ and ending with “What if this...this  _ thing _ that I am is genetic? Can you  _ imagine _ what the tantrums would be like???”

 

So he had purchased and drunk a non-prescription early abortion aid.

 

And promptly threw up. Hard.

 

For an hour.

 

Deciding that it was entirely possible that the Hulk (and the inability to harm oneself that came with him) was the reason for Bruce’s failure, Clint decided to try his hand at it. Just having it in his mouth, not even swallowing, was enough to result in a full body heaving until he relented and let the liquid spill out of his mouth.

 

A surgical abortion? Well, the incision just went and healed itself as fast as they could make it. They could only assume that it was a defense mechanism of the baby spider people.

 

What. The actual. Fuck.

 

\----xxxx----

 

Once everything sort of settled and they all more or less came to terms with the fact that they were going to be mothers to anywhere between four (Natasha) and thirteen (Steve) spider children, fathered by an stupidly virile  _ underage  _ father, the reactions were...mixed.

 

Tony felt  _ really _ mixed. While he didn’t consider himself to be parent material (at ALL, thanks), the beta had always sort of dreamed of having kids (though not  _ carrying _ them) and having something nice in that. Getting to be the parent he never had, you know? Stronger than that feeling though was the feeling that  _ everything in his home is made out of metal and holy shit the babies will not live long enough to learn science because not one of them is remotely capable of handling babies, let alone keeping the babies from harming themselves and what do they even EAT??? _

 

Bruce’s feelings were not unlike Tony’s, though with an extra emphasis on the “we are going to accidentally kill them in four days, wtf do we do???”

 

Clint and Natasha were essentially rolling with it because, as assassins, that’s just kind of what you do. While Natasha had left for a couple minutes to have a very mild freak out (aka, stare at a wall with no expression on her face while screaming on the inside before taking a deep breath and just  _ dealing with it _ ), Clint had slowly become somewhat giddy. While he never expected to have kids and considered himself to be a bit of a fuck up, he actually did love kids.

 

So, once Natasha had settled down, he’d taken her by the arm and decided that they were going shopping. Because these kids, by virtue of being the kids of the Avengers, were going to be the coolest motherfuckers (hopefully not literally) on the planet and they were going to need to look the part. They were going to be able to have clothes and food and books and other general essentials that Clint was suddenly realizing was just basic baby essentials he probably should have had himself as a kid.

 

But that just meant they were going to have even  _ more _ of it, okay?

 

And Steve...Steve found himself watching Peter more.

 

Steve had been  _ born _ an alpha, albeit a horrible excuse for one. And once he’d received the serum, he suddenly looked and almost felt the part. But there were times when he wondered if he should have been born an omega.

 

Because this? He  _ liked _ this.

 

He  _ liked  _ knowing that this tiny pseudo-alpha had unintentionally used him in his sleep. He  _ liked _ the fact that he wasn’t even being given a choice in whether or not to bear these children. He  _ liked _ knowing how  _ utterly _ knocked up he now was, how the serum had not only made him into the perfect alpha, but the perfect omega as well. He  _ liked _ knowing that soon, there would be no way to hide this. That in a couple months, people were going to look at him and believe that Captain America had spread his legs for some random alpha and had been summarily seeded beyond belief, likely intentionally because...well, how else could he have gotten that big without fertility pills? That it would only be a matter of time before he wouldn’t be able to even care for himself, swollen and weighed down as he would be with Peter’s children, visibly useless for anything other than being an incubator for those kids or worse, a toy for Peter to use for his own gratification, teenager that he was.

 

He  _ really _ shouldn’t like this as much as he did.

 

But look at where we were, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> Chat me up on kik or tumblr with the same username Oversoul159


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